


The World Starts at Sunrise

by tjs_whatnot



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:43:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison might not be the ride John wanted, but she is the one he needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Starts at Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [florahart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/gifts).



John Bender hung up the receiver of the payphone, cursed under his breath something about karma going and fuckin’ itself, and hitched his duffle bag on his shoulder and walked out in the rain which he swore got heavier as he exited the safety of the booth. 

He contemplated his options: he could go back inside the truck stop and hunker down with a bottomless cup of coffee, about the only thing he could afford. He could hide back in the cramped box that smelled of trucker sweat with a dash of hooker funk, or he could stand out in the rain so when his ride came out to collect him, he’d be as miserably pathetic as possible. 

Seeing as how he had called her out of the blue after not talking to her for years and yet she had agreed to come out and collect him, he decided that he should be as pathetic as possible.

He wondered, as he stood in the pissing rain waiting, when anything was ever going to go his way. There was a name for the kind of luck he’d had these days… years. 

His only bit of good luck had been when she’d answered the phone, remembered him and agreed to gather him up. The only other good bit of luck was that she apparently didn’t live too far away as it only seemed minutes later that a car he didn’t recognize pulled up beside him, rolled down the window and a voice he did recognize but hadn’t heard in a very long time whistled. “Hey baby, wanna ride?”

John tried to smile, or at least not scowl anymore as he opened the door and slid in. “Thanks, Allison.”

The door barely shut before she barreled out of the parking lot. “Not at all. It was good to hear from you and I had just gotten home from work, so I didn’t even have to get dressed or anything.”

“Well, it was really decent of you, after not hearing from me in so long.”

“How have you been?” she asked. “What brings you to this neighborhood without a ride?”

He kicked the duffle bag so that it wouldn’t be blasted with the heat that was warming his toes and lifting his mood considerably. “Oh me? I’m doing great. Fuckin’ fantastic, can’t you tell? I’m a highroller, a money making machine with the world at my feet. Haven’t you heard the news? I’m the shit.”

Allison smiled sadly. “Yeah. Me too. I’ve really gone places since high school.”

“I always knew we’d be the ones to succeed. To get out and make things of our lives. Those other fuckin’ losers with their college educations and family connections, where are they now? Huh?”

“Not here, that’s for sure.”

“That’s right, not here.” John knew that for sure, he had tried calling all of them before he’d called her. Not that she needed to know that. 

“But you didn’t answer my question, what were you doing over here. I didn’t think you even lived in Shermer anymore.”

“I don’t. I had to come back for… for something. I’m heading back to Seattle as soon as I can. I just need to rustle up a ride. That’s what I was doing tonight. Meeting with a dude who was looking for a ride share.”

“Yeah? You ever done those before? I always wondered.”

“A few times. This time was a bust. Dude didn’t even show up. Or maybe he did, took one look at me and bailed.”

Allison looked at him. “Yeah. Probably.” But she was smiling.

John had forgotten how easy it was with her. They had been friends once, for a while. He couldn’t remember why they stopped. It wasn’t because they didn’t like each other, didn’t have things in common. It was just how things went. You made friends that you saw in a certain place for a certain time and when those places change and the time is up, you move on and people fade. Everyone does. He could count on one hand the people he still talked to from high school. 

“So, where are you staying while you’re here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Around.”

“Well, does this around have an address where I can direct my car?”

He thought. He had stayed at his parents for the last two days, but those were two days too long. Still he could…

“You can crash at my place if you want,” she said, as if sensing that he was uncertain.

“Yeah? That would be great. I’d already said the heartfelt farewells to the parentals. It would be awkward to return, ya know?”

“I know. I got room. You can stay until you find a ride back home.”

“Thanks. I’ll try and find another rideshare. There were a few that would get me closer to Seattle. From there I can get another, or get to a place where I could get on a bus.” All those options were less than ideal, but he needed to get home. He should have never come back to Illinois without a sure ride out again. Unfortunately though, he hadn’t had time to gather the money or the resources he needed.

“How long have you been back?”

“Just a few days.”

“Have you seen anyone since you’ve been back?”

“Just you.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t really come home to visit. I don’t even know who is still around.”

John hoped she would ignore the first statement which he didn’t want to talk about and focus instead on the second. He sighed with relief when she spoke. 

“Well, Andrew is at State, I think Claire is still in Paris, living the vagabond life. Brian is at MIT of course. Those are the only people I keep track of anymore.”

John didn’t mention that those were the only people she ever had kept track of. John had always thought he was somewhat of a loner before he’d met Allison. That he didn’t need anything from anyone. He couldn’t imagine spending as much time with himself alone and being okay with it. He’d crawl out of his skin. He didn’t need anything, but he definitely needed people--from time to time.

They drove in silence for a bit before she turned down an alley and pulled into a parking spot next to a tiny detached garage. They got out and walked through the small back yard and into the even smaller house.

“You live here alone?” John asked.

“I do now.”

John didn’t ask what that meant. He just looked around. It was pretty pristine on the inside, so much so that it didn’t really match the outside or the neighborhood it resided. “You own?” 

“Yeah. We bought it last year, but now it’s just me.”

“Cool,” John said, barely listening. He was too busy studying the art on the walls in the small living room. They were pencil drawings of people, crowds, landscapes and geometrical shapes. “These are stunning.”

“Thanks.”

John looked at her and she was blushing. “They yours?”

“Yeah. They keep my mind off other things. They calm me.”

“I can see that. They calm me too. Well done.”

Allison bowed her head and slid back into the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I have some deli meats and cheese for a sandwich, or I could make something if you don’t mind the wait.”

John couldn’t imagine what she would create. “Sandwich sounds good, thanks.”

He stuffed his duffle bag at the end of the couch. The couch was too big for the room and was situated so close to the front door, John knew that the door didn’t really get used. This didn’t surprise him. He couldn’t imagine Allison entertaining. He was a bit curious who the “we” was, but not enough to ask her about it.

“Thanks,” he said when she came into the room with two plates with sandwiches, chips and a pickle. She sat down at one end of the couch, folding her legs under her. He sat down at the other end, relieved that they wouldn’t be sitting at the table in some formal meal ritual.

He watched her take a bite of her sandwich before he took a hesitant bite of his own. Turkey and cheese. He sighed. “Captain Crunch Pixie Stix sandwiches anymore?”

She laughed. “So gross. I can’t even remember that was a thing that I did. Like, how did that combination even come to be in my mind?”

He laughed too. “Fuck if I know. It was bizarre.”

There was a silence that was excused by the chewing and swallowing. When they were finished, she took the plates back into the kitchen. “I’ll make up the guest room, okay? Just give me a minute.”

“Oh, okay.” He couldn’t imagine this house had more than one room. “I could just sleep out here if you don’t want to go through the trouble.”

“No trouble.” She came back out of the kitchen and headed down the small hallway. He heard her move around for a while.

“Where’s your T.V.?” he called out.

“Don’t have one.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense to him. What did one do when they didn’t have a television? More importantly, what were they going to do until it was time for bed? 

She came back out. “Sorry. I just haven’t gotten around to getting a new one.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. So instead, he stretched and yawned.

“Well, the bedroom is ready.”

“Awesome. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Long day.” He practically sprinted to the room, his duffle bag tucked under his arm.

“Oh, okay,” she said quietly watching him close the door. “See you in the morning.”

He leaned against the door. _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ he asked himself looking at his watch and groaning. 9:30. How lame was that?

Truth was, even in the best of days, John didn’t really know what to do with girls he didn’t want to fuck. He couldn’t imagine having a true, real friendship with a girl and not expect anything from her or worry about them expecting anything from him. And though he didn’t really even know Allison anymore, he had always gotten the impression back in highschool that she would be a really fuckin’ needy friend. He couldn’t imagine what she would be as a girlfriend.

He shivered as he deposited the duffle bag gently on the bed. He shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes before he looked around as if someone was suddenly snooping in before unzipping his duffle bag and pulling out a tarnished gold urn. 

“Almost home,” he whispered. He made sure the door was locked before he placed the urn on the night table and pulled off his pants and t-shirt. He turned off the light, the only illumination that remained where the street lights outside his window through the sheer curtains. For the longest time he just stared at the ceiling. Not the slightest bit tired, but with nowhere to go and nothing to do, he just waited for sleep to claim him, putting himself out of his misery.

He really shouldn’t have come back to the godforsaken town, especially now that the only person he could honestly say he truly loved was no longer there, but he had made a promise. It was a promise made at an age where he never imagined having to fulfil it, but still, it was a promise. He might be fucked up in a lot of ways, but going back on his word was not one of them. 

He looked at the urn beside him, glowing in the faint light and tried to forget that the only person who ever believed in him was now residing in ashes there and not in the only home he’d ever known, the only place he’d ever felt safe. Still, no matter how hard he tried, the minute he closed his eyes, just like he had since he’d returned to town, he was flooded with memories. Sunny days and long walks hand in hand, clothes hanging on a line as he laid at the grass watching her hang the wash, imaging it flying away taking them with it. The smell of chicory in her coffee and bourbon in her nightly medication so vivid he almost could taste them on his tongue. 

Sighing sleepily, he finally gave himself over to succumbing to memories, as long as he avoided the last years when he had barely spent any time with her. When he had gone days and weeks forgetting his grandmother had been forced into a home by his fuckin’ parents and knowing she needed him, but terrified to visit her and see her so very miserable. It hurt to see her that way, but it hurt even more to realize he was too fuckin’ weak to be able to deal with it.

He looked at the urn again and sighed. It was over. Her suffering and his guilt, they were things of the past, or they would be, as soon as he respected her last wishes. He just needed to get on the road.

***

The next morning he packed up his duffle bag gently wrapping the urn in of the last clean piece of clothing he owned, before opening the bedroom door. He hoped that Allison would be gone to work or something and there would be a note, and he would write his farewells beside it and hoof it out of there. It was’t the worst way he’d ever said thank you and bye, but it did make him feel a bit of a coward. But, he refused to let it get to him, at least he hadn’t slept with her or anything. He could be a worse asshole.

He knew by smell alone that she was still home. The aroma of bacon, maple and coffee brewing was so overpowering that they sent his mouth watering instantly. His hunger overrid his desire to flee.

“Good morning,” he said, feeling suddenly awkward as he entered her kitchen.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I? Hungry?”

“Famished,” he said, not looking at her or the food. All he could see were the suitcase and ripped up duffel bag at her back door.

“Good. Here, have a seat.”

“Um, Allison?”

She didn’t say anything, so he turned to look at her. She looked bright and pert and so completely different than the night before, or any other way he’d ever seen her. Ponytail, very little make up, but a smile that lit up the room. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Well,” she started, sounding nervous and awkward. “I was just thinking last night about how I have all these vacation days and how I’ve always wanted to have an adventure, and I thought… maybe… if you wanted… if you still needed… that maybe…”

“You want to drive me to Seattle?” he didn’t know if he was relieved or horrified by the very idea.

“I sort of would, yeah.”

“And you can just… just drop everything and do that?”

“I can. If you… want me to.”

 _Did he?_ he thought for a fraction of a minute. Then he remembered that his only other option had not shown the night before and unlike her, apparently, he really didn’t have the sort of life right now where he could drop everything and take all the time in the world to get back to it. 

“That would be great!” And he tried to make it sound like he really meant it. He tried to really mean it. Seeing her smile explode even further into a grin that stretched her whole face and he relaxed. _This could be fun._ If not that, at least not horrendous.

“Awesome. So, yeah. Let’s eat. Then we can just go.” She actually bounced. Allison Reynolds actually bounced. And John Bender actually smiled for the first time in a long while.

***

Five miles out of Shermer Illinois and John was already bored. The silence in the car wasn’t overwhelming, not yet, but he imagined hours and hours of it and he thought he might have to crawl out of his skin. 

“Please tell me you have a radio?” John said, reaching for the dials before she could answer.

“I’m not that pathetically devoid of modern distract--” the rest of her statement was drowned out by the Ramones blaring over the speakers when John had hit the power button. He turned it down, but only slightly. There were no awkward silences with quality music to fill it. 

“Sorry,” she loudly apologized.

“Don’t be. You have good taste in music. I had forgotten that.”

She smiled and turned it back up. John rested his head and looked vaguely out the window as his hometown buzzed by and his heart lifted with each mile its reflection shrunk in the rearview mirror. If they could listen to music and think their own thoughts in their own heads then this won’t be bad at all. Maybe he could even convince her to make a few stops along the way, but first he’d have to tell her why, and he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to tell her that.

They had driven through Milwaukee and had went from Ramones to Dead Kennedys before taking a turn to the strange with Tom Waits. John had never heard of him before, but he instantly started to groove on his strange and oddly romantic vibe. Plus, he didn’t need to be listened to at head splitting levels. John loved his music loud, but he was starting to get a headache. He was realizing that even at this volume, silence was still awkward after a while. He’d fake sleeping, but it was pretty early in to pull that, especially after he’d already feigned tired at an absurd hour the night before. Anymore sleep and she’d think he was sick or something.

Still, he didn’t know what to say. If it was a ride with a stranger, he’d already be into his 12th bullshit story. But she knew what was real and what was lies and he didn’t feel like telling the truth just yet.

“So, John, tell me, what brought you to move to Seattle to begin with? What keeps you there?”

He sighed and resigned himself. “After getting my GED, I was contemplating employment options. Of the thousands of offers I had received, I decided that the most lucrative with the least amount of time required was fishing in Alaska.”

Allison laughed. Whether because of the dripping sarcasm or about his naivete about the ease of Alaska fishing he wasn’t sure. She didn’t elaborate so he continued. “That first day out on the boat and two things hit me simultaneously: I worked more, worked harder in that one day than I’d ever done before in my life. I thought I was going to die.”

“And the second thing?”

“It was the best, most rewarding thing I’d ever done. I was hooked.”

“How did that lead to Seattle?”

He shrugged. “Fishing is a seasonal job. It pays well enough that you only need to really work those months, but Alaska in the winter is… well, you thought Shermer had hard winters? Child’s play. I tried for one winter and almost took my own life many times. So, when a couple buddies from the boat the next summer suggested getting a house in Seattle for the off season, it seemed perfect.”

“And is it?”

“Perfect? As close as I’d expect at this point in my life.”

“That’s nice.”

There was another silence. This talking and telling stories thing wasn’t so bad, John thought. Enough time had passed from that story so it didn’t even hurt anymore, the isolation, darkness and bone chilling cold of Alaska, the weakness and self-loathing he’d had to overcome that first summer on the boat when it had become painfully understood that he had never really worked a day in his life. Having a captain threatening to throw him overboard on a daily basis, knowing that there was no where to go and he either pulled his fuckin’ weight or he'd become chum was eye opening and now he appreciated it. But then? He didn’t need to tell the part about crying himself to sleep a few times, about his hands bleeding and about how he worked for days on a broken foot before the pain got too much and he had passed out on deck. How he thought he would never be invited back and how that would have broken him. That was all behind him now. 

“So, you like Seattle?”

“I do. It’s different from everything I’ve known before but I’m living with a bunch of guys who are also transplants so we are making it our own. We keep ourselves busy offseason with odd jobs or travel or whatever, but the summer is when we really come alive.”

“Sounds like the perfect job. I’m happy to see life seems to be working out for you.”

“Thanks,” he said. 

They stopped outside of Minneapolis for dinner. They had spent the 8 hours on the road talking about their high school days and wondering where all the names they both knew had wound up. Allison knew more than he did, but he had a better imagination so they kept themselves laughing with made up stories and wild imaginings. It was a relief to pass the time pretending that this was a completely normal event, like they’d been in contact all these years and had many shared stories to sustain them.

It wasn’t until they had placed their orders and was watching the sun begin to set over the lake that it got weird.

“You know what’s strange?” Allison asked.

“What?” John asked, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

“I’m the one asking all the questions.”

John turned from the window to study her. Like always, her face was completely unreadable to him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, I’ve asked you about your life, your job, where you live and yet, you’ve not asked me a single question. Haven’t even shown the slightest interest in where I am in my life, what I’ve been doing. I mean, I always knew you were… well were self involved, but Jesus, John, really?”

He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t think of a single word. He should apologize, right? That was a dick move, right? The words wouldn’t come out. Honestly? He hadn’t even noticed. Or, if he had noticed that there were always pauses between his answering her question and her asking another one, as if waiting for some reciprocation, he had let them pass by.

He bowed his head instead of answering. He had forgotten this about Allison. This ability to cut to the bone of a subject, to study you with those eyes that saw everything and told you nothing. 

The food came and still he didn’t look up from his lap. It would be so easy to just ask some fucking questions. Start over in a way. She’d still think he was a dick, but she’d forgive him, wouldn’t she? But the idea of it seemed so cheap, such a cop out. Instead he took a deep breath and said:

“My life right now, is a mess. It is. I’ve given you the illusion that everything is going according to some sort of plan, but it’s not. Never has.” He took a deep breath and looked up. “And maybe you’re right and that I’ve always been a self involved prick, but I’m really sorry that we met again right now when I’m apparently even more so than usual. And...”

“And?” she asked after a full minute of watching him attempt to continue.

“I’m barely holding it together. Like right on the border of having entirely too much on my plate, and the little hints I’ve gotten from you, the things you’ve shared even though I’ve been too much of an asshole to ask for, feel like they might be the thing that tips me right over the edge.”

He watched her cautiously, waiting for her to scream, to break down. Really, he was prepared for anything. Well, almost anything. What he wasn’t prepared for was for her to laugh. Hard. For a long time.

At first he just stared at her. Then he looked around and saw that everyone in the diner was looking at them. So he tried to smile so it might look as if he had told her a funny joke and not that she was apparently losing her mind right there in front of them all. 

After many awkward moments, she finally stopped, with tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking around the room to everyone as if extending her apology to all of them. Then she leaned in and said just to him. “I just had to laugh. You know why I kept asking me to tell my about your life?”

He shook his head.

“Because I am so tired of my life, of my problems, of my verge of losing it that it was a welcome distraction to catch up with you, or the version of you that you feel comfortable enough to share, for a while.”

“Well, if you didn’t want to talk about your life, then why are you mad that I didn’t ask?”

“Oh, John, you aren’t too bright are you? There’s a difference between not wanting to talk and the desire to feel as if you matter. As if you’re interesting enough that someone would _want_ you to talk to them.”

John looked to his lap again. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not _okay_. But it’s okay enough that I’ll let it go.”

John looked up at her. He’d heard that before from the women in his life, this assurance that his inadequacies wouldn’t be dwelt on. And like all the times before, he really wanted it to be true. “Can we start over?”

She smiled one of her dazzling smiles again and nodded.

Putting his thumb to his ear and his pinkie to his lips like he was making a call he made a ringing sound until she laughed and mimicked him. “Hello?”

“Allison? Hi, it’s me John, John Bender.”

“John! How are you?”

“Well, I’ll tell you, I’ve been better.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I’m stranded and would really appreciate it if you could give me a lift.”

“Sure. Only, can I ask, how many people did you call before you called me?”

He hung up the fake phone and made himself look her in the eye. “Everyone.”

“Why?” she asked, giving up the game too.

He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. They all seemed… easier. My boys would scoop me up and get me high, get me drunk and let me forget about it all for a while. Claire and Andrew would throw money at me, get me bus fare, or a flight home. But they wouldn’t expect anything from me, wouldn’t… care.”

“And that’s what you wanted? Someone who didn't care?”

“That’s what I _thought_ I wanted.

Allison gave him a look that very much told him she knew he was full of shit, but that she was going to let it go. It was so rare for her to say anything with a look that he returned it with his own look that said, _I might mean it, let’s see how the rest of the trip goes._

They both paid their separate bills. John waited with held breath that his credit card would be accepted. A few years before he had hired an accountant to manage his finances. He had learned the horrifically bad way that when you got your yearly income in three months time, you had to find a way to stretch it or you’d blow it all within months and spent the second half of the year homeless, hopeless and desperate. 

This meant that he’d always have enough money to pay his bills and to deal with small financial emergencies. Flying to Chicago and finding his way back home hadn’t been budgeted for, and now at the end of the month, he was very close to destitute. 

Which is why, an hour after leaving the restaurant and filling the tank--thankfully that was Allison’s turn to do--and she suggested getting a hotel in the next town they had to stop at, he checked the calendar on his watch and panicked. Two days.

“I could drive while you slept if you’re tired.”

“No,” she answered too forcefully. She must have seen his shock because she immediately checked her tone. "No. I don't want to sleep through anything."

John looked out his window to the wonder that was South Dakota. "Not even this?"

She laughed sadly. "Not even this. Because I don't know when this," she pointed to the Rockies Mountain range in the horizon, "turns into that. I don't want to miss that."

"I could wake you up."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't be the same. You don't know what parts I want to see and besides, it would be dark."

"But..." he started, but he didn't have any more arguments that didn’t involve telling her the truth.

"Listen, if this is about money, don't worry about it. I haven't had a vacation in awhile, I have savings. If it's about time, I can drop you at a bus station tomorrow. It's just..." Now she seemed to have bumped into a truth she didn't want to share. However, she was better at this Being a Human thing than John was and so she took a deep breath and plunged on. "just that this is my first time out of Shermer. I want to see it all. So, I’m getting a room. You are free to stay with me, or you can sleep in the car, it’s up to you."

He was stunned. “What do you mean your first time out of Shermer? Like ever?”

“Never ever.”

“How…? How is that possible? You who had fake IDs and passports when you were 16, you who had multiple escape plans. How do _you_ never leave Shermer, ever?”

“I got trapped. Then waylaid. Finally hamstrung. But, that’s all changed now. I’m here and I’m going to make it count.”

“Okay.” He couldn’t say anything else. He wasn’t going to get her to change her mind, he wasn’t going to get home any faster or cheaper. Besides, just as she had all those years ago in that high school library with her hair in her eyes and her layers of black, she intrigued him.

They found a place outside of Sioux Falls. It was a dump, but neither of the cared about that. It had a old west saloon next to it, and as much as John would have loved to get a drink, to unwind properly, he couldn’t afford it. So, he settled into sharing a hotel room with this girl that he barely knew, but still knew too well to try and get a one nighter out of her.

“First thing I’m doing is taking a shower. Need to get the road off me. Is that okay?” She called over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs to their room.

“Of course,” John answered, adamantly _not_ staring at her ass at his eye level. He had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but this could be one of his worst. Thankfully, she didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in him, and he’d stopped chasing girls who didn’t want to be chased a long time ago.

When they got in the room that John was happy to see, had two beds, she threw her bags on one and unceremoniously began rifling through them, pulling out random shit.

John laughed. “Still the girl with a lot of shit in your bags. Seriously, how have you never traveled before?”

She looked up and studied him. “Is that a question? You sure you want me to answer?”

“Maybe you were right,” he began, setting down on the bed opposite of hers. “Maybe other people’s messed up lives are great distractions.”

She smirked at him, but stopped gathering up her shower supplies and sat down. “In high school, I let a boy ignore me every day of the week, and then come over to my house late Saturday night after he’d left whatever party he’d been to and I let him fuck me and I called it love.”

“Andrew?” John spat.

She nodded. “That relationship set the tone for all my relationships after. I’ve had a string of boyfriends, and a few girlfriends, that I’ve let treat me like shit and use me. Lots of people that I let dictate what I thought was important and what goals I wanted to pursue. She paused for a moment, before taking a deep breath and finishing. “I lost myself for a few years there. Then last year I decided no more.”

“Just like that?”

She looked away. “Just like that,” she whispered and John knew there was more. He didn’t push it though, of course he didn’t. Let her have her stories too painful to tell. He had his own.

Watching her walk into the bathroom, he waited until she closed the door to open his own duffle bag. He pulled out the urn, he looked at her bag of shit, he looked back at the urn.

By the time she came out of the shower in a Jane’s Addiction concert tee barely covering her panties, and a towel on her head, he had formulated a plan and a way to sell her on it.

“What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the urn he had displayed where she was sure to see it. 

“That,” he started, resting his hand lovingly on its base, “is the reason I came home.”

“Yeah?”

“My grandmother. The only person who ever loved me unconditionally, the only person who ever had any faith in me.”

“Oh, John,” Allison said through the tips of her fingers.

“She was… special.”

“Tell me about her.”

John smiled. “She was a lot like you actually.” Allison’s look was skeptical, so John went on. “She was. Lived her whole life in Shermer. Never traveled and wanted to so bad. That’s why she had herself cremated. That’s why she willed herself to me. I’m the only person she knew who got out. I was the only one who could get her out.”

“John, I…” she started, her fingers over her mouth again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling an itch at the back of his eye he couldn’t scratch. One of the reasons he hadn’t told anyone--not his housemates, not his friends--is because he didn’t know what to do with condolences, with the looks and the words and how they were said. So instead, he took a deep breath, slapped his knees and said all in one rushed breath. “That’s why I’d like to make a proposal to you.”

“A proposal?” she asked, subconsciously tucking her t-shirt under her crossed legs.

“In two days, I get paid. If you could float us until then, I’ll get us the rest of the way. We can take our time getting to Seattle, really see things. I can--”

“Yes!” she agreed enthusiastically. 

“You haven’t even heard the rest of my proposal… I was going to be very persuasive…”

“You were,” she said, standing up, kissing him on the forehead before rushing to her bags. She pulled out maps and a notebook and got started planning. “And I’m really easy.”

John sporfled. “I wish all girls were like you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked, not looking up from her maps.

He continued to watch her in awe. It amazed him how little it took to turn someone’s whole life around. Not that he thought she was _cured_ or anything, but she was definitely _changed_. So far, the change made him smile. It made her smile too. He’d never imagined she could smile that wide, that unguarded.

He left her to it and went and took a shower. When he came back out she was still at the maps, but she’d moved onto her bed, her knees up, her panties peeking under her shirt. He licked his lips, wanting a drink so bad.

“Mind if I watch T.V.?” he asked instead. It was the only distraction he could afford. 

“Mmm, hmmm. What?”

“T.V. Mind?”

“Sure. Go ahead. Hey, did your grandmother have any places she wanted to visit?”

“Everywhere.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Anywhere specifically?”

John tried to remember. There were just so many places. So many places all over the world. He couldn’t remember any names. Just images. “Wait! Hold on.” He got up and went to his bag. Letting out a woop, he pulled out the calendar he had pulled from all her piles and piles of paperwork before his father threw it all in the trash. 

“Here.”

“A calendar?”

“She loved these things. Especially the sunset and sunrise ones. The light she said. She wanted to see magic like that in this world. Just once.”

Allison’s eyes were once again sad and John regretted bringing her back down. But she took the calendar and flipped through it, taking time on every page. Then she was back to the maps, this time referring to a couple of the pictures in the calendar. 

John turned the T.V. on low so that he could pretend to be watching it and not Allison as he slowly drifted to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he couldn’t tell what time it was; it was pitch black. Whether that was because the heavy drapes were closed, the T.V. was off or because it was still dark out, he didn’t know. That happened a lot in hotels. Time worked strange. He could feel the most rested he had ever felt on four hours of sleep in a hotel, or he could feel as if he’d never slept. He heard Allison sleeping in the bed next to him and he quietly got up and checked his watch as he walked to the bathroom, 5:30am. He wondered when she had finally drifted off, and if she had fallen asleep on a pile of maps and pages.

When he came back out to the room only a few minutes later, the lights were on, Allison was up and he saw that she had either thrown her bags together just now, or had packed up the night before. Either way, she looked completely well rested and ready to go. He looked back to the bathroom and to her, wondering if he’d lost an hour or so in there. 

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No. Not at all. I’m just ready to go. Well, after I brush my teeth. You?”

“Sure. Can we stop for a coffee before we set off for wherever you want to go?”

“Absolutely.”

They were checking out of the hotel 15 minutes later. The sun was just beginning to rise. John stood outside the car, smoking a quick cigarette watching the sky change colors and shrugging. From his vantage point outside Sioux Falls, South Dakota it didn’t seem that magical.

She threw her bags in the back of the car and started it, waiting for him to finish his smoke and get in. When he had, she turned to him. “Okay, ready for an adventure?”

“Let’s do it.”

She smiled. “Okay, I have a few places mapped out, but I don’t mind making extra stops, detours, or skipping anything. I’ve routed a few of the places in the calendar you gave me, some of them take us far off track, but I’m okay with it if you are.”

“Just as long as we eventually wind up in Seattle.”

She was about to put the car in drive but paused and turned to John. “Thank you for this. And thank you for trusting me with this awesome responsibility. Trust is very important to me and I’ve yet to have someone live up to the trust I bestow on them. Maybe that’s my fault that I put my faith in the wrong people, I don’t know. I just know that I trust you. But, I swear to god, you do anything to break that trust, and I will dump your ass on the side of the road.”

John didn’t know if she were serious or not, but as he didn’t plan to do anything to hurt her, he didn’t worry too much about it. She continued, “And since most of the troubles I have with fuckin’ up my life has to do with… well, with fucking, I don’t think we should have sex while we’re on the road.”

She was looking right at him and was so earnest that he laughed nervously. “If you insist. But… well if we make it to Seattle with trust intact?”

She laughed now. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” he echoed as they drove off. 

***

After stopping for some coffee and a bag of donuts, they hit the road, not stopping for anything but gas until they got to Mount Rushmore. John thought it would be cheesy and overly Americana kitschy, and it was, a bit. But after they walked along the path that wound through the Badlands National Forest, it mellowed out. When they got as high as they could go and looked over the valley below, with the sculptures behind them and the whole world in front of them, it seemed rather freeing.

Still, John was very nervous about how many people were around when it came to pulling the ashes from his bag and leaving a little of his grandmother behind. Looking back and Abraham Lincoln’s likeness however, and the Illinois boy in him just had to. 

They didn’t stay long there and after a late lunch they drove a bit longer until they were out of South Dakota and in Wyoming. The next day they spent the entirety of the day at Yellowstone Park where Allison was convinced that every stump they passed was a bear. A few of them actually were. She stopped about every 5 minutes to take a picture, occasionally pulling John out to get in the shot. 

The day after that it was Glacier Park in Northwest Montana and Fourth of July in the panhandle of Idaho, and Lookout Pass, and Snoqualmie Pass, the Columbia River gorge. They hiked through national parks, white water rafted down rivers and even camped in the Cascade mountain range. John had been there before so he knew where to find a site that would allow them the experience of camping without having to have thought ahead and brought the gear. Tiny cabins on Mt. Baker. 

By then, they were only a hour or so from his home. They’d been on the road for almost the entire week and hadn’t tried to kill each other once. He was both anxious to get home and on with his life, and sad to see the trip come to an end. 

John had dropped handfuls of his grandmother every morning at sunrise and every night as the sky danced from light blue, to pink, orange and red before turning a violet blue peppered with stars. A few times, after John had told her many stories about his grandmother so it seemed that Allison knew her well, she had done the honors, raising her hands over her head and spinning around, ashes blowing and falling all around her. 

John had never seen anything more beautiful.

“Tell me about Alaska,” Allison prompted on their last night. A few times John had made references, but she said she still couldn’t get a picture of it. The more they hiked, boated and fished across the country she wondered aloud how John had become so natural at it all. 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I think I’ve taken for granted the glory that is Alaska. When you’re on the boat that’s all you see, the ocean, the water, the nets and the fish, so much fish. You don’t notice sunsets or rises, you don’t even notice the lights of the aurora borealis dancing above you. It’s just there.”

“John, that is _un_ acceptable! I demand that you take a little time everyday, a minute tops to look around.”

“Maybe next time we could go there too, and we didn’t get to the ocean. Oregon is beautiful, we could go there. They have waterfalls and dunes.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, or the time after that.”

Allison reached over and took his hand. “That sounds lovely.”

He raised their twine-fingered hands up to his lips and kissed the back of hers.

Smiling sadly and turning on her side, she said, “But if we continue these trips, you know what that means?”

“No sex?” he asked.

She snuggled into his side. “No sex.”

He wrapped her in his arms. He’d never been more content to agree to _never_ sleep with anyone ever. He could always find a fuck partner, but a travel partner? That was a rare commodity. He wouldn’t mess it up for the world.

“I can live with that,” he whispered, his lips resting at her temple. 

He really could.


End file.
